


Until That Day

by Mrs_HH



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:23:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_HH/pseuds/Mrs_HH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious man walked into Hermione Granger's office, she didn't realise how much her life was about to change. But why does he seem so familiar and what happens when her past collides with her present? Set 20 years after the war, EWE, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little piece which came to me whilst trying to work out how to write a section for my epic SSHG work.
> 
> I own nothing but my imagination. My lovely muses belong elsewhere.

Hermione always wondered why she had been so attracted to him. He was surrounded in mystery, but it took her no time at all to find the real him.

Augustus - Gus - was beautiful...at least to her. He was intelligent, sarcastic, and his rapier wit had her spitting out many a drink on a night out. He was six feet of lean muscle, dark hair, strong cheekbones and chin, and had mesmerising dark, inky blue eyes that seemed to penetrate her very soul. He possessed the filthiest mind of anyone she had ever met, and the way his voice and hands caressed her—

He reminded her of somebody, but she could never place them. It wasn't until she lost Gus that she realised who that person was.

* * *

It was a cold November morning when Hermione Granger, undersecretary to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, sat at her desk staring at the man who unbeknown to her - or him for that matter - was to become her husband in a matter of five months.

Augustus Rosier swept into the office with the air of a man who knew his place in the world. He introduced himself, and proceeded to inform the witch, who he'd heard so much about that she was lucky he had decided to move from Russia back to the UK so that she could utilise his formidable skills.

Many would have scoffed at his arrogance, but Hermione somehow saw it simply as self-confidence. It was a confidence that seemed familiar, and somehow, for the first time since the end of the war, she felt a sense of calm descend upon her.

She smiled sheepishly, glancing surreptitiously at the man sat before her as she perused his file. He was thirty eight – they were the same age. His mother was dead; his father still alive. Neither names were mentioned.

"Your parents?" Hermione ventured as she wondered if he was related to the infamous Rosier line.

"Father is an Unspeakable which means I cannot tell you who he is," Augustus drawled. "My Mother...she gave birth to me, but Father's mentor had me taken away after my birth and placed in the care of another family in another country. I attended Durmstrang, but you know that already.

"Both my foster parents died when they stupidly agreed to return to fight in the war. Father used to visit me during the school holidays and I remember him arguing with Papa about it. He urged them not to get involved. He said it was a war that was unlikely to be won, and he was right."

"You were brought up by sympathisers of Voldemort?" Hermione asked urgently. After the war it was not unusual for some of Voldemort's more fringe supporters to offer their services as Aurors, Healers or Unspeakables to keep themselves out of Azkaban. Their training in the dark arts was seen to be invaluable in the still ongoing hunt for, and battles with, rogue Death Eaters. His father, she surmised, must have been one of this number if he'd agreed to send his son to live with supporters of the Dark Lord.

Augustus smirked. "My we are clever, aren't we? Yes, they were. Although I never understood the political arguments. Papa often questioned my parentage because as far as I'm concerned you are either magical or Muggle. Who cares if you're a Muggle or a Pureblood, Half-blood, Muggle-born or Half-breed? I am sorry for the way you were treated, by the way."

"You know how I was treated?" Hermione asked quietly.

"As Father always says 'forewarned is forearmed' and talking of forearmed...can I see?" He asked softly, his voice gliding like warm silk over her. This was the moment, upon reflection that Hermione knew she was falling for him.

She was shocked by Augustus' tenacity, but inexplicably, Hermione found herself pulling up her sleeve to reveal her scar. Even after so many years she was still embarrassed by it and even in the house she kept it covered. It was one of the things that Ron had found infuriating because it meant they'd never made love naked. That said they hadn't made love since he walked out twelve years ago after she turned down yet another marriage proposal.

"I don't normally do this," Hermione mumbled as she looked anywhere but at the man now standing in front of her. She flinched as cold fingers skimmed over the sensitive flesh, tracing each letter slowly almost reverently.

"Then I am truly honoured," his voiced washed over her before he added, "You've never had a Dark Arts expert look at this for you?"

Hermione shook her head. "I think the only person who could have helped died in the war."

The dark-hair wizard whispered smoothly, "I don't think that is entirely true but with your permission I may be able to assist. I am not unfamiliar with this kind of magic."

"Well, yes, thank you," Hermione stuttered before adding, "Only if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," Augustus told her and gave her a disarming smile as her eyes finally met his.

Something clicked in that moment, and they continued to look into each other's eyes for longer than was entirely appropriate. In fact, they only stopped when there was a sharp rap on the door which heralded the arrival of the Head of the Auror department.

Startled Hermione looked down as she realised Augustus still had her arm in his hand and was stroking it with his thumb. She pulled it away quickly, adjusting her sleeve just as Harry Potter walked in.

Harry greeted his best friend cheerfully. "Good morning, Undersecretary Granger."

"Good morning, Mr Potter. I trust you and my godchildren had a good weekend," she asked knowingly. She knew the house would be a disaster area as Ginny had just taken over as manager of the Holyhead Harpies, and Harry was left solely in charge at the weekends.

"No one died, and Molly brought over enough food so I didn't have to cook. So, I suppose it was a good weekend," Harry smirked before turning to the dark figure stood before Hermione's desk. There was something familiar about the man, but he shook such notions from his head. "And you must be my latest Auror. Your credentials are impressive, Mr Rosier."

"Indeed, and you are undoubtedly Harry Potter. I have heard so much about you that it is a pleasure to meet you in person at last," Augustus told him quite sincerely.

"I suppose we'd have been at Hogwarts together if you hadn't gone to Durmstrang," Harry mused.

"As we are the same age that would have been true, but I fear I would have upheld the family tradition and been in Slytherin," Augustus smirked before Hermione told them both to sit down and ordered a tray of coffee and biscuits.

"So why have you decided to return to the UK now?" Hermione asked as she continued to review his file. "You were doing extraordinarily well in the Russian Ministry."

Concentrating on his file meant that Hermione could stop herself from stealing glances at the strangely alluring man sat before her. It had been such a long time since anyone had caught her eye that she knew subtlety would have evaded her, and Harry knew her too well not to notice.

Augustus looked at Hermione, knowing that she was deliberately avoiding eye contact and a chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. "I cannot deny that, but the fact is I am not Russian, so the top jobs were not available to me. I have a better chance of making a more permanent mark here than back there."

"After my job are you?" Harry chuckled. "I can see you would have been the perfect Slytherin."

"I believe I come from a line of perfect Slytherins," the bespectacled wizard was informed before being told, "But I would never be head of anything in Russia, so better that I take a few years to prove myself here before I start treading on anyone's toes. Although, Father believes Shacklebolt himself should step aside and give me his job just because I've set foot back in the country."

"You are very lucky to have a father who is so proud of you," Harry told him rueing the fact that, apart from his father-in-law, he didn't have any father figures to tell him such things.

"I am," Augustus acknowledged. "My father was absent for much of my childhood due to work commitments, but I always knew he was there for me even when he seemed more concerned about the welfare of others."

Harry asked, "Your father is...?"

"—An Unspeakable," Hermione interrupted before blushing profusely as she realised Harry had noticed her eagerness to respond on his new Auror's behalf. She stole a glance at Augustus whose eyes flashed playfully at her despite his impassive expression.  _He used to do that all the time,_  she thought to herself.  _Whoever he was,_  she added.

Harry couldn't wait to inform his wife of this potential development but had to move the meeting on as he had another to attend. "So, you will be working in our Potions division as I believe you are rather handy with dark poisons. Unfortunately, we have seen an increase in their use, in recent years. I'm not sure why—"

"It takes years to perfect the art, and not many have the predisposition, so it is unsurprising that you will see an increase as more practitioners become adept," Augustus interrupted.

Both Hermione and Harry looked at him incredulously. The last time they'd heard someone say something like that was...but no...he didn't have children; he wasn't married and he loved Lily. Even in his dying moments he still loved Harry's mother. And he'd been dead for twenty years so Augustus couldn't even have apprenticed under him.

"You know, you sound like our old Potions professor," Harry mused trying to see if Augustus would take the bait.

"They must have known their stuff," the dark-haired man offered distractedly.

"He did," Harry admitted, his voice full of regret. "I just wish we'd realised it at the time."

Augustus looked at the wizarding world's saviour and said, "I'm sure someone did."

Harry nodded before he stole a glance at Hermione and said, "Well I just popped in to introduce myself. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other, Rosier. My door is always open. But if you will excuse me I have another meeting to attend so I will leave you in the capable hands of Miss Granger." He flashed Hermione a knowing look which had her blushing again.

As Harry stood so did Augustus who extended his hand to his superior and stated courteously, "I look forward to working with you."

Harry simply nodded before smiling at Hermione and leaving the room.

* * *

 

Augustus only sat down once he and Hermione were alone again, and was about to ask her a question when she suddenly blurted out, "Where are you living?"

"I've just bought a flat in Southwark. I was living with Father, but we both need our space. And I didn't like the thought of taking girls to his house. He hasn't had much luck with women, and I didn't want to rub it in," Augustus told her; a wicked grin creeping over his face.

"Do you take girls home often?" Hermione suddenly found herself asking.

"You'd be the first," he whispered.

Hermione could feel the blush reaching her ears. "Would you like to—?"

"Miss Granger, before you go any further I must inform you that I have been brought up in the old ways, and it would be unconscionable for you to ask me out for a drink, dinner or even a night of unbridled passion." Hermione's face dropped in disappointment. "Instead," Augustus continued, "Would you like to go out for dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"I can't tomorrow. What are you doing tonight?" She asked timidly.

"I have plans." Again Hermione's face dropped before he added, "But I've just changed them, and now I'm taking you out to dinner. What time do you finish?"

* * *

That night was the start of a whirlwind romance for Hermione and Augustus. He'd been the perfect gentleman for three weeks. Their goodnight kisses had progressed from sweet kisses on the cheek to scorching tongue battles, which always ended in the same achingly slow parting of their lips. And this was only changed when Hermione turned up at his flat unannounced wearing nothing but a long winter coat over a rather tantalising black basque and knicker set with lace-topped stockings.

It hadn't been her idea. Ginerva Potter was a bad influence. She was thankful that she could Apparate into the hallway because there was no way she could have walked in the heels she had on. But she'd bought them and the underwear at Ginny's insistence, who was much more adept at buying such things. No wonder Harry always looks so happy, Hermione mused to herself.

And Augustus looked equally happy over the coming weeks. When they weren't working they were making love, and it was like nothing Hermione had ever experienced. He was an incredibly skilled and passionate lover, and sometimes that scared her. Apart from a couple of disastrous encounters in the years since Ron left, and frankly he was nothing to write home about, she felt a complete novice compared to the dark-haired man who now occupied her bed and house, but he never made her feel like one. He introduced her to completely new experiences, and he never criticised her as Ron had been prone to do. He made her feel special; he made her feel loved.

It was five weeks into their relationship before Hermione blurted out that she loved him in a post-coital haze. He simply chuckled in the deep, rich way that made her melt, and whispered, "I love you too. I think I always have done."

Two weeks later they had a picnic on their living room floor, and as she reached into the bottom of the basket she found a small square box. Just as she was about to pick up the box, long, elegant fingers snatched it away. Gus, as she now called him, mirrored her kneeling position and simply said, "I know this probably seems ridiculous, but I love you Hermione Granger, and I feel like I've known you forever. So will you be with me forever and marry me?"

How could see refuse?

The wedding was beautiful thanks to Ginny. It was at times like this that she really did miss her parents. But when she'd gone to Australia to find them two years after the war, she discovered that they had divorced and were living with new partners. She couldn't bring herself to restore their memories, and a heartbroken Hermione left Wendell and Monica to their new lives.

But on her wedding day she wished that her father was there to give her away, and her mother was there to fuss and cry. Instead, Arthur Weasley gave her away, and Molly and Minerva McGonagall did admirable jobs of the fussing and crying. Ginny, Luna and little Lily were her bridesmaids, and Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she heard Ginny mutter as they walked down the aisle, "Thank you for getting married whilst I can still walk down the aisle, and not have to be pushed by one of my grandchildren."

She tried not to cry as she stood beside the man she had fallen so madly in love. But as Harry stepped forward as Gus' best man to hand over the rings, she felt the tears begin to creep down her cheeks as she realised that this was not some dream but a reality.

The only strange thing about the day, and something that Hermione seemed more upset about than Gus, was that his father wasn't there. Hermione was still waiting to meet the man who her new husband seemed to idolise. She didn't even know his name, and the excuse that he was an Unspeakable and on a mission was starting to wear thin. Sometimes she even wondered if the man actually existed.

But she didn't notice the dark figure slipping into the back of the church after she began to walk up the aisle, and was too preoccupied to notice the same figure slip back out just before the new Mr and Mrs Rosier walked up the aisle together.

* * *

Their work schedule hadn't allowed for much of a honeymoon, but they'd agreed to have a proper one in July. And instead of going away for the few days they did have off, the happy couple decided to stay in the comfort of their own home...or rather as Gus put it, their own bed.

As the newlyweds arrived home, all thoughts of Gus' absent father seemed to fade until they quickly perused the pile of presents in on the dining room table.

There, on top of the pile, was a box wrapped simply in green paper with a card pushed under fine silver ribbon.

"Is this from your father?" Hermione asked as she looked at the writing on the envelope and handed it to her husband. She wasn't sure why she thought it was from her father-in-law, but somehow the writing was familiar. It was spiky like Gus', but more practiced.

Gus nodded as he opened the envelope and removed the card, only for a smaller envelope to fall out onto the floor. He picked it up and saw that it was addressed to  _Mrs Hermione Rosier_. As he handed it to Hermione, he chuckled knowingly, "This is for you, sweetheart."

Hermione took the envelope and carefully opened it to reveal a neatly folded piece of parchment. With some trepidation, she unfolded the letter, and was surprised by how moved she was by the words written by a man she had never met.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_After so long it seems strange that I finally have reason to write to you._

_I have followed your career with interest over the years, and although I have never been able to approach you, I just wanted to say that I have admired your progress from afar._

_My son is happier than I could ever hope for him to be and I know that is entirely down to you. I have always wanted Augustus to have that which, unfortunately, slipped through my fingers so many years ago, and from the moment he told me of your relationship I urged him not to repeat my mistake. Thankfully he listened, and I am delighted that today you have become my daughter-in-law._

_The time will come when we can meet, Hermione, but until that day I wish you every happiness._

_Your faithful servant_

Gus just laughed when Hermione showed the note to him. "Typical Father," he muttered before putting the note down on the table and scooping his new bride up into his arms. "Now Mrs Rosier, all this can wait until the morning because as lovely as your wedding dress is, it has an appointment with our bedroom floor. And then we have an appointment with every stable surface in this house."

* * *

That was four months ago, and from that moment, Hermione and Gus had been blissfully happy. They had redecorated the whole house and even discussed which room would become a nursery. They'd spent their evenings with the Potters or the Scamanders, or languishing naked and gasping for breath somewhere in the house.

Their honeymoon had been incredible, and as she sat at her desk reminiscing, life was perfect as far as Hermione Rosier was concerned. Finally she picked up a memo from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. As she read through it she began scribbling notes when there was a sharp rap on the door. The door opened almost instantaneously, but she didn't bother looking up because only two people ever knocked like that and just entered her office.

She knew it was either Harry or Gus. Usually they just sat down and waited for her to finish what she was doing. Today though they stood stock still in front of her desk silently compelling Hermione to look up. When she did she saw her husband's eyes, but they were no longer dark blue. They were black and brimming with tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione's mouth fell open as she stared into the black version of her husband's eyes. But the face that accompanied them did not belong to Gus. It was older and all too familiar; a face from the past that she never thought she would see again.

Panic filled every fibre of her being. Her throat constricted as she battled to speak, and all the figure before her did was stare at her with those deep black fathomless pools.

He wished the circumstances surrounding his presence in Hermione's office were purely social, but a man in his position did not have a social life. But that suited him fine because you cannot miss what you never had, and he had enough things in his life that he did miss.

He looked down at the girl―no woman―that he knew from all those years ago, and took in a deep lungful of air in the vain hope that he was close enough to sense a piece of comfort from the past. He knew seeing her in person again would be hard, and the tightening in the pit of his stomach only confirmed this, but despite rehearsing what he had to say to her now that he was finally standing before her, everything he had prepared to tell her evaded him.

They just stared at each other until he quietly broke the silence. "Hello, Hermione," he drawled. His voice was different. It had lost much of its velvety quality and was much more like fraying silk.

_Oh I really miss his voice._  She thought despondently.  _It doesn't matter, at least it's still him. Where the fuck did that come from, Hermione?_

Eventually, she regained some control of her own voice and croaked out, "You?"

"It is indeed me."

He placed the fingertips of his right hand on her desk, and nervously bounced them off the surface as he waited for her to assimilate what he knew must be a shock.

She wasn't sure if her brain was still functioning properly, but she managed to pull herself together enough to blurt out, "But...but you're dead!"

He snorted softly before swallowing hard as he tried to regain his composure. "The evidence would suggest otherwise," he stated calmly, even if his emotions were roiling just as much as the night he made the hardest decision of his life.

"No, you are. I saw you die. I saw you take your last breath." Her voice disappeared as she whispered, "I cried for you."

"I know you did," he told her as he blinked to battle back a tear which was threatening to escape. "I heard you. I—" He wanted to tell her why it was that he'd heard her. He wanted to tell her that he hated it when she cried. But that all had to wait. He was here for a reason. The past had been the past for so long that it could stay that way until he could address it properly.

A thousand questions hit her all at once, and he could see by her distressed expression that it would be prudent for him to take the lead in the conversation.

"Hermione, I know this must be a shock to you, but I can assure you that it was imperative that my death was falsified. I can explain why later but I need you to understand that―"

He stopped speaking as she looked at him wide eyed and opened mouthed. "So, Gus  _is_ your son? All this time it's been staring us all in the face, but because we thought...I can't believe this. Professor Snape is my father-in-law? You know, he's so like you, but you...you didn't have a child. If you did, there's no way you would have been so...so awful to us. And he always talks so highly about his father. He worships you...I suppose that explains why he's so good at Potions, but...how can someone like you be a parent let alone  _his_  dad?"  _You bitch! That was a terrible thing to say. You should apologise._

Her words stabbed at him, and his chest constricted. He couldn't deny that the mask he had worn over the years had shown him to be a bastard, and he couldn't deny that he wasn't the most pleasant of men in general. But when it came to the people he loved, no matter how hard or easy it was, he would try to move heaven and earth for them. If he couldn't then he did what he thought was best, and usually regretted it. It was that regret that caused her words to hurt so much.

But he couldn't react. He couldn't show her that she'd hurt him because, at the moment, she didn't know any better. All he could say was, "Yes, I am his father. The eyes and his brilliance in Potions are a giveaway, aren't they? And Hermione, aside from the fact that you married my son, and I am no longer a Professor, I believe that calling me Professor Snape is as inappropriate as me calling you Miss Granger. You may call me Severus."

He tried to force a smile, but Hermione couldn't help noticing that his usually tight lips fell slack as he screwed up his eyes and exhaled forcefully, like a defeated man. He knew that what he was about to tell her would break her heart just as much as his was already broken. Unfortunately for him he was quite familiar with breaking both their hearts.

He noticed that she seemed to have stopped paying him attention again as she tried to get her head around the fact that the man she thought had died long ago was standing in front of her very much alive and well, and also happened to be her father-in-law.

The silence was oppressive as both their minds calculated their next move. She was thinking up questions, still too shocked to realise that for him to be stood there at all meant something was seriously wrong, and he was trying to work out a kind way of telling her the reason behind his unexpected visit. He just knew that a game of twenty questions wouldn't help anyone, so he decided to press on.

"Hermione, the reason I've come to see you today is because—"

"Severus, why didn't you come to the wedding?"

_Oh for fuck's sake! Will you never change, woman?_  He growled in his head. "Just because you didn't see me didn't mean I wasn't there," he said with an exasperated sigh. She wasn't making his task easy.

"Oh don't give me that  _I was there in spirit_  bollocks. It was your son's wedding day, and—"

"Orchids."

"What?"

"You wore three Dendrobium bellatulum orchids which, I am led to believe, are one of your favourites, in the back of your hair. They were only visible from behind, so I didn't just look at your wedding photographs, and pretend that I was in attendance."

"Well, why didn't you stay?" She asked in a far more familiar and accepting tone than he could have hoped to hear from her at the moment.

"I'm supposed to be dead. That kind of impediment tends to limit ones public appearances. And because of my unique role―"

"Unique? You're just an Unspeakable," Hermione scoffed.

"A supposedly dead Unspeakable," Severus grumbled. "If I may continue, whenever I am seen in public it generally requires the use of  _Polyjuice_. And those who do know I am still alive, and until the moment I stepped into this office there were only three, have all made Unbreakable Vows."

"Will I need to make one?" Hermione asked.

"No, because after the Evening Prophet goes on sale it won't be necessary," Severus told her with an impatient sigh.

"Why?"

Severus looked at the ceiling and squeezed his eyes together as he told himself to keep it together. "All will be explained, but I just want you to know that the reason you were not aware I was at your wedding was because I slipped in after you walked up the aisle and left before you came back down it. It was one occasion where I didn't want to be  _Polyjuiced_  or  _Disillusioned_. The point is Augustus knew I was there, so you do not need to worry about me not discharging my fatherly duty."

"Why didn't he tell me? I was ranting on about you not being there, and...well I thought it was strange that he wasn't that upset," she mused conversationally.

He took a deep breath and pushed it out quickly. "Hermione, as much as I would love to reminisce, and you did look stunning, by the way, I—"

But he was cut off by an incredulous laugh. "You're my faithful servant. Severus Snape is my faithful servant. That's how you ended that letter you sent my with our wedding present."

_Stop fucking interrupting me, Hermione!_ He thought as he suddenly tried to stop himself from blurting out a sentiment that rushed from the back of his mind to the tip of his tongue. Unfortunately, it was to no avail. "I've always been faithful to you."

Hermione's face suddenly dropped. "What? What does that mean?"

He could tell that she was now becoming suspicious of him, which whilst understandable was going to make his task even harder.

He hung his head allowing his hair to fall across his face and shield his eyes as he kicked himself for that slip up.

_He always does that when he finds things difficult to say,_ Hermione thought before adding to herself,  _Where is all this_ _coming from?_

He wished he could explain what he meant, but there just wasn't the time. And yet she was looking at him with her soft, questioning, brown eyes, and against his better judgement he found himself mumbling, "I've only ever loved three people unconditionally, Hermione. Lily, Augustus and—"

"Gus' mother?" Hermione offered.

"No, she meant nothing to me," he told her, his voice full of revulsion. "She was—"

"Why Rosier?" Hermione interrupted urgently. "Why doesn't Gus have your name?"

Of all the questions she could have asked him, he wasn't expecting that one. He sighed deeply, becoming impatient as he desperately needed to tell her why he was stood in her office, but composed himself enough to state, "Well actually he does have my name. But Rosier was his maternal grandmother's maiden name, and he used it because—"

Hermione tried to recall all the large family trees for the name Rosier and, unfortunately, she remembered where she had seen it far too easily. She remembered how Harry had given her the dubious honour of removing the Black family tapestry from Grimmauld Place and asking Narcissa, Andromeda, even Draco if they wanted it. Unsurprisingly, none of them did.

But one thing was for sure. Druella Rosier had three daughters and only one was dead. Hermione found herself swallowing back down the bile that had risen in her throat.

"Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me that Gus knew how to brew the counter curse to rid my arm of the bitch's artwork without the use of blood magic." She sniffed as she tried to hold back her tears before she asked quietly, "Was Bellatrix Lestrange my husband's mother?"

The pain in her voice nearly broke him. He wished it wasn't true, but he found himself nodding to confirm her suspicion.

He watched Hermione pale as her body dissolved into wracking sobs. He wanted to console her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms, but he knew he couldn't...now was not the time.

She felt another wave of nausea hit her, and brought her hand up to cover her mouth as her stomach churned. His hand twitched as he prepared to vanish any ensuing mess from her, but somehow she managed to control herself, and raised her hand to indicate that she was going to be alright.

Of course, he knew what Bellatrix had done to Hermione all those years ago at Malfoy Manor. He'd heard it straight from the bitch's mouth. He recalled her persistent cackling and bragging to the Dark Lord. Voldemort had punished her for an hour with the Cruciatus for letting Hermione, Weasley and Potter escape, but he wouldn't have let her get off so lightly. He'd have tortured her for days before ripping her throat out with his bare hands just for touching a single hair on Hermione's head.

But he always had to maintain his image of the cold, sneering bastard. He couldn't give himself away despite how he felt. But as he played his part well, he inwardly prayed that the plans Dumbledore had left in place succeeded. Then he could personally hunt down any Death Eater scum who managed to remain alive by the end of the gods forsaken war.

Hermione looked at him with fat tears rolling down her face.

"Hermione, I'm—"

"He's nothing like her," she whispered feebly.

"Thankfully not," he responded with a sigh. He tried to give her time to assimilate the information that he had not expected to reveal. Even Augustus had never been told the entire story behind his conception, and in fairness he had never asked. And as he thought to himself,  _and he never will_ , he had to swallow hard to fight another wave of emotion.

He was suddenly snapped out of thoughts as Hermione reared up and screamed at him, "How could you? How you could fuck her?"

"It was—"

"Shut up!" She yelled as she held up a splayed hand to stop him from speaking further. Then in a much calmer voice, she added, "Just...just don't talk."

If anyone else had spoken to him like that they would have suddenly found themselves unable to speak ever again, but he did as she instructed, and closed his mouth as he observed her carefully.

Hermione needed time to think. It wasn't that she didn't believe that he'd slept with Bellatrix. She knew Snape would have been quite young when Gus was conceived, and found herself thinking,  _He looks so good for fifty seven._ And from what she'd heard about the revels, it was more than likely that he was so drunk or high that the bitch took advantage of him. At least that was what she wanted to believe. Although, if she was being honest, she didn't want to believe any of it because the instant she did, she had to acknowledge that her husband―her beautiful Gus―was the product of a what was no doubt a quick and dirty fuck between her former professor and that crazy bitch.

Severus knew exactly what she was thinking, but the fact was he knew the truth was so much worse.

Hermione found herself thinking the unthinkable. She was actually grateful to Snape's mentor, whom she assumed to be Voldemort at that time, for encouraging him to have Gus separated from her at birth.

As these thoughts whirled in her mind, she lowered her hand and placed it on the arm of her chair.

He took this as a sign that he could speak, but again she voiced her thoughts before he could open his mouth. Her voice was small and lost as she asked, "Is this a bad dream? I used to dream that you were still alive, you know. I hated what people said about you. It was just so unfair. Are you really here?"

Snape's heart threatened to thump out of chest as he said, "I promise I'm really here, sweetheart," before he walked around to her side of the desk and quickly knelt before her.

"Sweetheart?" She exclaimed as the epithet snapped her thoughts back into the present. "How dare you call me that? Who are you? The man I knew, father-in-law or not, would never call me that. In fact, you never had a good word to say about me, so—"

"That's not true," he said dismissively before muttering, "You just can't remember."

"What do you mean I just can't remember?" She asked suspiciously before a horrible thought hit her. "What happened to me? What did you do to me?"

"I—"

"What did you do to me?" She repeated menacingly before trying to push her chair away from him. Unfortunately, her L-shaped desk prevented her from getting very far.

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe," Severus told her urgently. "Please, Hermione, I will tell you everything, but I need to—"

He reached forward tentatively to cup her cheek with his hand. Hermione looked at his long fingers. Gus' were the same. The first time Gus ever touched Hermione she couldn't shake the feeling that his touch was all so familiar. She kept staring at the hands of the man kneeling before her.  _What the fuck are you thinking?_ Her breathing was becoming erratic as her mind raced with thoughts that she could not believe she was thinking.

Now feeling even more threatened by his proximity, she growled, "Don't touch me!"

She went to reach for her wand, but found it was gone.

He sat back on his heels, and inclined his head to the side as he looked at her. "Do you honestly believe that I would be naïve enough not to expect this kind of reaction from you at some point? I know you too well to be unprepared. Your wand is safe, and I will return it to you, but first I need to talk to you, and I need you to stay calm because—"

"Tough shit!" She screamed at him as she managed to scramble over her desk and stumble towards the door.

"Impressive, but futile as I warded all the exits when I walked in here," he told her with an exasperated sigh as he hung his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he broke completely on the floor of her office.

Hermione held onto the door knob as if it provided some sort of protection, but as she looked at the man kneeling by her desk she realised he was sobbing.

"Please, Hermione," Snape pleaded. "Come and sit down. It was not my intention to scare you. I didn't want it to be like this, and what I have to tell you is hard enough as it is without you being—" His voice broke further, but he managed to compose himself enough to say, "I'll Langlock you and bind you to the chair if I have to," but his voice lacked any of its customary bite or sarcasm. If anything, he sounded utterly crushed as he ran his hand over his cheeks to wipe the tears away.

Hermione was suddenly overcome with conflicting emotions as she actually looked at the man kneeling beside her desk.

The last time she saw him was the day she thought he'd died, but here he was alive and well. She knew him as an unemotional, hard and cunning man, and yet her husband talked about him as a loving father, generous mentor with a wicked sense of humour. And the evidence before her seemed to support her husband's opinion of the man. Deep down she had always suspected him capable of being more than the cantankerous bastard everyone thought him to be. And it wasn't just because of what she knew about him and Harry's mother. But for the life of her she didn't now why she had ever become one of the man's staunchest supporters.

And then it dawned on her that whilst she was busy being shocked and confused by his reappearance, the news that he was Gus' father and that her husband had been sired with the woman who had tortured her all those years ago, she hadn't asked him why was he was there.

It was only then that it hit her, and she suddenly didn't want to contemplate why he was there, but she had to ask. "Why are you here?" She asked carefully, all sign of hostility slipping from her voice.

_Finally, she asks,_  he thought to himself as he turned slowly to face her unashamed to show her the tears which had returned.

"Sit down, please," he directed her.

She took faltering steps towards one of the guest chairs and lowered herself into it tentatively. "Something's happened to Gus hasn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"But it can't be that serious," she said almost hopefully, "because they always send department heads to give really bad news and you're definitely not Harry Potter."

He snorted softly at the mention of The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again and Hermione's assumption. He stood up and walked round to the other side of the desk, and pulled the other guest chair closer to Hermione before he sat down. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. He hung his head and swallowed hard.

_How many times have I seen him do this? And why do I want to tuck his hair behind his ear?_  Hermione thought to herself.

"I'm afraid, Hermione, that although Augustus led you to believe both personally and professionally that Mr Potter was his department head I can assure you that he is not, and so it would not be his place to inform you of anything. Gus was one of my Unspeakables," he told her as his voice broke completely.

Hermione's eyes widened as she heard this. It wasn't just because she'd heard that her husband was an Unspeakable but because—

"You said  _was_. Why would you say  _was_?" Hermione asked urgently as she felt her heart trying to break out of her chest.

He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, which only caused her to panic more. Her breathing was uneven, and all he wanted to do was reach across and take her hand. Who was he trying to fool? He wanted to pull her onto his lap, wrap her up in his arms and protect her from everything. It wouldn't be the first time. He just wished someone would walk into the room right now and offer him a way out of telling her. Hell, he would have done anything not to have to acknowledge what he was about to tell her.

He tried to compose himself, but he knew it was hopeless, so he decided just to give it his best shot and hide behind his stoicism. "Mrs Hermione Rosier, as the Head of the Unspeakable department it is with regret that must inform you that your—"

He felt the tears begin to trickle down his cheeks as Hermione sat there stunned, shaking her head in disbelief as he spoke to her. He prayed for some miracle, but it wasn't forthcoming, and he pressed on. "—your husband, Augustus Severus Snape, was...he was...killed in the line of duty. The cause of death has yet to be determined, and a full investigation is underway."

If Severus had been dealing with a widow that he didn't know; if he'd been dealing with a widow who wasn't his daughter-in-law; if he'd been dealing with anyone but Hermione, he would have carried on informing the bereaved of certain protocols that needed to be observed. But he had just formally acknowledged the death of his son and all he could say was, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry. He was so close to solving the case. I can't believe that when he left my office yesterday that it was the last time I'd ever talk to him. He loved you so much."

Hermione sat there in complete silence, her face expressionless as the man before her buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

It was only when there was a sudden violent banging against her office door that they both looked at each other, and Hermione felt something that she knew was missing click back into place. She was just able to pinpoint what it was.

The banging was accompanied by Harry's voice as he yelled, "Hermione open the door. Please, love, I know you're in there. Are you alright? For fuck's sake open this door before I break it down."

Severus wandlessly dismantled the wards and Harry, surprised by the fact the door now opened, came stumbling into Hermione's office.

He looked at Hermione, and asked urgently, "Are you al...?" His eyes widened as he took in the still imposing figure of Severus Snape sat by his friend. Finally, Harry found his voice again, and said "So, it's true. You're alive?"

"Now is not the time, Mr Potter," Severus cautioned as he suddenly felt Hermione's hand slip over his.

"No, you're right. I've just been told. All these years we've corresponded, but I never knew it was you. I just wish the reason you decided to reveal yourself was more..." His voice trailed off as he watched Hermione instinctively walk over to Severus, curl up on his lap and begin to cry. "I suppose this is a time for family," Harry conceded as he looked at the pair of them succumbing to their grief.

"You're as good as family to her, Harry," Severus choked out as he wrapped his arms around Hermione gently.

The younger wizard felt tears run down his face. "He was a good man. Just like his father, " Harry admitted before he asked wistfully, "Why does it always happen to you?"

Severus looked up at him, and his stomach turned as he saw Lily's eyes again. "What?"

"Everyone you love dies," Harry whispered as he bit his bottom lip.

"Not everyone," Snape whispered as his lips ghosted over Hermione's hair.

* * *

Augustus Severus Snape―Rosier was his cover name―was buried in a small cemetery near Hermione's house in East Finchley three weeks later. She'd asked Severus if there was anywhere he wanted Gus to be buried, but he insisted that his son's final resting place should be near to his widow.

Following an intensive investigation into Gus' death, the coroner recorded a verdict of Death by Misadventure. In other words, he had made a mistake. Severus felt numb. His son had made an elementary mistake, and it ate away at the Potions Master. It was on that day that he resigned from the Ministry.

The Potters, Scamangers and Weasleys―even Ron―flocked to Hermione's side in her darkest hour, but Harry was mindful to keep Severus close and respect his position in Hermione's family. After all, who else did he have?

After the funeral, however, Severus tried to stay away from Hermione and her circle of friends. His sudden re-emergence into society was bittersweet. There was those who welcomed him back with open arms, and there were those who wanted to see him dead.

When the press released the news that Severus was still alive, the articles revealed that Dumbledore had informed the then Minister for Magic, Scrimgeour that he had asked Severus to end his suffering, and had bargained so that not only would Severus survive the war, but no charges would be brought against the dark-haired wizard. However, this was on the understanding that Severus Snape would disappear from public view and become an Unspeakable. He was initially to resume his role as a spy, but what was not revealed was the personal price Severus had to pay for this deal.

The Potions division of the Unspeakable office had developed a close enough match to an anti-venom for Nagini. Being a spy was inherently dangerous, and they knew Voldemort could discover Severus' allegiances one day, so they prepared for all eventualities. His cuff buttons had a Protean charm cast on them so that a team could rush to his aid should he be seriously injured, and he had been taking the anti-venom for months before the final attack. When Hermione saw Severus take his final breath it was when he passed out from blood loss. The moment the trio left with Severus' memories, a medical team arrived to assist the fallen man.

It was at this time that Minerva McGonagall announced that she was stepping down as Headmistress at Hogwarts and for reasons which defied all logic to Severus, he was asked to resume his role of Headmaster. With reluctance, he accepted. It meant he could keep his distance from Hermione, even though that ate away at him, but she would know where he was should she ever want the answers to some of the questions she'd asked him on that fateful day in her office.

Meanwhile, Hermione tried to carried on. She hated the emptiness of their house, and after a few weeks she moved in with the Potters at Grimmauld Place. She lost her appetite. She felt nauseous all the time. She worried about everything and wished she could have one day without a blinding headache.

It was when she came home from work one evening and immediately ran to the toilet to be sick that Ginny came into her room later that night and sat next to her on the bed. After the ensuing discussion, the red-haired witch advised her friend that now would be a good time to get in touch with her father-in-law.

And so two days later, Hermione found herself sitting in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts opposite Severus Snape, who didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the news that he was to become a grandfather.


End file.
